Page 22 of Moonlight & Mayhem

“And?” he asked.

“And I’m Dark Chaos,” she reminded.

“I remember,” he said.

“Those two things matter,” she insisted.

“They do,” he agreed.

She frowned. “You’re agreeing with me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked.

“Because men like you usually think the woman bends,” she said.

Mayhem barked out a laugh. “Have you met Tempest?”

Moon’s lips twitched. “That’s different.”

“Why?” he asked.

“She’s the Prez,” Moon said.

“And you’re Moon.” Something about the way he said it made her chest hurt. He didn’t say that she was Doctor Moonlight or the Dark Chaos’s healer. He just called her Moon. His gaze held hers. “I don’t want you because I think I can change you.” Her wolf went quiet. “I want the woman who tells me to shut up while stitching me together.” Moon fought a smile. “The woman who walks into a fight when she’d rather be healing afterward.” His expression softened. “The woman who sees danger before everyone else and still doubts herself.”

Moon looked down, and Mayhem reached for her hand slowly, giving her time to pull away, but she didn’t. His fingers closed around hers, and immediately, the monitor beside the bed changed. His heart rate slowed, and the black veins along his forearm faded another shade.

Moon stared back at him. “There,” he breathed. Mayhem followed her gaze. “So it is you,” he said.

“No,” she insisted.

“Moon,” he warned.

“I mean, it isn’t just me.” She moved closer and examined his arm. “The bond is doing something.”

“Keeping me alive?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she agreed.

“Still sounds useful,” he teased.

She ignored him and her mind raced. “If the substance responds to our bond, then maybe that’s the point.”

Mayhem frowned. “What?”

“They called you the carrier,” she said.

“And you the vessel,” he whispered.

Moon nodded. “Maybe they need the bond active.”

His expression darkened. “Active how?”

“I don’t know.” Moon released his hand, and the black veins immediately darkened. Mayhem swore, and she grabbed him again. They once again faded. Moon’s heart pounded. “It’s feeding off the separation.”

“What?” he asked.

She pulled him to the bed. “Sit,” she ordered.